Tomorrow Never Knows
by Lock Owl
Summary: Life's not easy for Elladan and Elrohir. Both struggle to win their father's approval. Both try to be their own person, but part of the other at the same time. And now, just after their first real fight, these tasks seem more impossible than ever.
1. As a Family

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places thereof.  
  
*****  
  
Elrohir and Celebrian shared an uncertain glance. They could both see what was coming, and wished they could not. Elrohir tried to send his brother signals to calm down, just be steady and even, but to no avail. Elladan continued to chew his supper with spiteful force, his muscles taut with anger. The only person unaware of this seemed to be Elrond, who sat calmly and did not even glance at Elladan once.  
  
"Elrohir--" Elrond began, but this time Elladan did not let him.  
  
"Just leave him alone, all right?" Elladan said suddenly. Elrohir was their father's favourite, and everybody knew it. Elrond was civil and loving to both sons, but Elrohir was a diplomat, and that was a skill Elrond nurtured. By the same path he was slightly harder in judgment with Elrohir, but with only the best of intentions. Elladan was a natural born warrior: his diplomacy involved a sword and bow. At thirty-four years, he had progressed to a hand-and-a-half sword, and was nearly ready for a longbow. Both twins excelled at something, both had great strengths. And both had their weaknesses.  
  
"Excuse me, Elladan, I was not addressing you," Elrond said calmly, but clearly displeased.  
  
"So what?" Elladan spat back. "Look, Elrohir does his best, why can you not be satisfied with this? Everybody knows you love him and not me!" Elladan was on his feet now, shaking, whether from anger or from hurt it was hard to tell. "If you only love one of us, at least be easier in judging him!"  
  
"Elladan!" Elrond exclaimed.  
  
"Elladan, dear, please," Celebrian pleaded quietly. She could see what was going to happen, she had known since Elrond began antagonizing Elrohir.  
  
"I'm sorry, Mother," Elladan muttered, and perhaps he would have sat back down and things could have gone on normally, had Elrond not decided to state his opinion of the matter.  
  
"As a child, Elladan, such things are not yours to say."  
  
Elladan froze, halfway between sitting and standing. He straightened, a bit too straight, and strode angrily from the room. He let the door slam shut behind him and kept on going, out into the cold evening air. His cheeks felt pinched at once with the bitter chill of the evening air. The wind blew his hair back, as much of it as was free from the loose tail it was tied in at the base of his neck. Elladan had come to be rather content with his body, different shades of grey save the tan of his skin, and plenty strong enough for a warrior. As the wind played over him, Elladan grabbed his arms for warmth and shuddered.  
  
Maybe he liked who he was on the outside. Not so on the inside. Fires burned inside of Elladan. Rage simmered, and he was learning to channel that rage for a physical fight, but at the same time there was too much of it to get rid of in an hour with a sword in his hands.  
  
Elladan meditated on this as he looked on the panorama before him. The sky was clouded over and grey, but a pink tint was cast over it from the setting sun. There were woods bordering Imladris, but straight ahead was an open meadow, the grasses growing wild as it always was. The twins used to be small enough to get lost in those grasses, and Elladan could faintly hear an echo on the wind, of his brother calling his name. . .  
  
"By Iluvatar, Elladan."  
  
He turned to see his twin standing in the doorway. Elrohir was not as solid as Elladan, not nearly as muscular, and far paler. He kept his hair cut short, about even with his chin. As children, the boys had confused their parents as to which was which. Now it was easy to tell. By Elrohir's posture, he was angry.  
  
"Why do you have to do that?" Elrohir demanded. "Huh? Why can you let nothing go? He does the best he can, Elladan."  
  
"Really? After thirty-four years, that is the best he can do?"  
  
"There is no need to raise your voice at me."  
  
"I know. Sorry. I just--" Elladan had not the words to finish, but he motioned angrily. "Does he think we are children?"  
  
"Yes," Elrohir replied calmly. Elladan made a feral sound and hit the wall hard, his arm flat against it, then rested his head on the wall as tears slid from his eyes. Elrohir placed a hand on his brother's back. "What is it?"  
  
"I. . .I. . ." Elladan rubbed his eyes angrily.  
  
"He loves you," Elrohir said gently. Elladan's tears came harder. "You only need to stop antagonizing him--"  
  
"How can you side with him?" Elladan asked angrily.  
  
"He suffers as you suffer!" Elrohir shouted.  
  
Elladan was taken aback. Elrohir was usually so calm. . .but this was a fight, nevertheless. "He has no emotions with which to know suffrage!"  
  
"He has more emotion than you!"  
  
Elladan hit his brother. He did it before thinking or knowing what he was doing, but he did it. Elrohir recoiled, not prepared for the hit, as Elladan's heart raced. Blood dripped from Elrohir's jaw, and he stared at his brother in shock. Elladan turned and, with a stunning lack of emotion, walked away.  
  
*****  
  
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No, that was not the end! More to come! 


	2. We Once Were

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places thereof

HardcoreWWnut: It seemed to me that someone so politically inclined would have certain problems with emotional attachment. It isn't favoritism so much as understanding, so it comes off wrong.

Daw the Minstrel: Ah, but of course I am going to tell you more! And yes, Elladan is. . .well, mostly he's just angsty, but of course 'just angsty' is an oxymoron.

Pinto: Do so, I love the twins, too! That's a big part of why-this-story-came-into-being. Thanks, and I am so sorry it took this long to get the new chapter done.

Sphinx: I've never read anything about Elves not cutting their hair, so I'm not really certain. That's one reason Lord of the Rings is such a difficult domain to choose; there's so much history to it.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed! And sorry this chapter took so long! 

*****

Elrohir dipped the flannel into the earthen bowl and raised it, waiting as the oversaturated cloth dripped water back into the bowl. His jaw was burning, shooting jolts of pain all along his nerves, but he did not feel it, for Elrohir was no longer with his physical body. He had retreated to the recesses of his mind, to a time so different than this.  
  
/~/"_Bet you can't catch me, Elrohir!" Elladan shouted, bolting out into the high raipeseed. Glad to be out of classes for the day, Elrohir did not have Elladan's great energies, but wished to find a shady tree to seat himself beneath and read a nice book**)**. For a moment Elrohir stood, considering the challenge, staring into the raipeseed growth and thinking perhaps it would be goodto run about for a little while. But then, he also wished to read his book. As Elrohir stood, deciding, Elladan returned, looking concerned. "What is it, Elrohir? Are you all right?"  
  
"Bet I can!" Elrohir cried, making his decision in that second and flying down the steps, tackling his brother to the ground_./~/  
  
Elrohir held the wet cloth against his jaw, letting the cool water ease the pain. When he returned the cloth to the bowl, there was blood on it. A pinkish-red cloud filtered into the water. It was a stain, Elrohir thought, and perhaps it could be some high power trying to tell him that his and Elladan's relationship was tainted for ever more. Was it?  
  
_/~/"Elladan, wake up." Little Elrohir shivered, his feet gathering coldness from the floorboards below. Outside, rain lashed at the window, and Elrohir jumped as lightning flashed and thunder sounded just at the same moment. "Elladan!" he squealed, clutching the arm of his ragged teddy bear even tighter. Elrohir was indeed frightened, wishing Elladan would just wake up!  
  
"Elrohir? Is something wrong?" Elladan asked sleepily, squinting as he poked his head out from beneath a pile of blankets and quilts.  
  
"Elladan…I am scared," Elrohir whispered. Thunder sounded again, and Elrohir started. "Elladan, please!"  
  
"Come on, 'Ro," Elladan said, taking his brother's hand and pulling Elrohir under the covers with him. "Don't be scared, all right? Nothing is going to hurt you, I promise." It was dark and stuffy under all those bedcoverings, but despite that Elrohir felt quite scared, and could not stop shivering. "Elrohir, I promise you will be safe. I promise." Elladan wrapped his arms around Elrohir, and Elrohir relaxed. In moments both boys were asleep_. /~/  
  
Elrohir was brought back to reality by the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. He spat, then took a drink of water. Instead of swallowing, he swished the water around, then leaned out the window and, being sure that no one was near, spat out the bloody water. Before he had a chance to continued cleaning his wounds, there was a knock at the door. 'How stupid of me!' Elrohir thought. 'I left the door open!'  
  
Elrohir turned to see his father in the doorway, looking partially angry, though probably with Elladan, partially concerned, and partially displeased. Mostly, Elrond looked unreadable, as usual--Elrohir understood in that flicker of a moment why Elladan thought of their father as emotionless. "Yes?" he managed, astounded at the unexpected comprehension.  
  
"Elrohir, are you…what happened?" asked Elrond, realizing as he spoke that a bruise was forming on Elrohir's jaw.   
  
"Nothing--" Elrohir moved to hide it, but it was too late. Elrond crossed the room in four quick strides and pulled Elrohir's hand away from his face, gently touching the bruised skin. Elrohir shuddered with the pain.  
  
"What happened, Elrohir?" Elrond asked again, still fingering the bruise.  
  
"I tripped. And please stop, that hurts!"  
  
"You are behaving just like your brother, Elrohir. I know full well that you did not trip, you are an Elf, not some clumsy mortal. Who did this, Elrohir? It is all right, you can tell me."  
  
Elrohir shook his head.  
  
"Elladan," Elrond said, knowing.  
  
"No!" Elrohir cried, not wanting his brother to be in trouble, no matter how angry he was. But Elrond paid him no mind, already heading out of the room. "No, it was not Elladan, he would never!"  
  
"Elrohir, after the scene your brother caused tonight I very much doubt there is anything he 'would never' do. Wait here, I will see to that bruise in a few moments," Elrond stated, and then he left.  
  
"Oh," groaned Elrohir, sitting down on his bed. "What have I done now? Nothing, though, for Elladan brought it on himself with his own lack of control. I have always had control to make up for his lack, of course, I only lapsed tonight. Elladan must grow up some time." 


	3. Into the Woods

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places thereof

Iawen Londea: Thanks! Although Elrohir is given credit as the intellectual one, by the end of the story you will learn that Elladan is not exactly dumb--and Elrohir is not all he's cracked up to be. No more spoilers!

Pinot: It was actually Elrohir who was reflecting, but you get the idea. That is pretty typical after a fight, and of course the relationship is always either stronger or broken. Aw, way to guilt me into writing the next chapter!

Lady of Legolas: You cannot justify showing unequal love to children. Yes, one may be more difficult, but, well, let me tell you something. In this story, I am the Elladan. The less loved. It cannot be justified to me.

Collie Girl: It's not how I pictured him, either. You must remember that this story started at the middle and shall end at the end, with only discussion of the beginning. The characters act out a play began many years before, that you only just began to see. Named, yes, but they were invented far before that. I described it as a "teddy bear"--not Elrohir, not Elladan, but I. You know what a teddy bear is, as do I. In my opinion the use of modern terminology in a story is acceptable from author to reader, although literary and not vernacular. However, I will go back and change that to "stuffed bear toy". And as for political stupidity, had you not pointed it out I would not have noticed at all--though I presume you are American, whilst I am not.

As usual, thanks to everyone who reviewed!

Author's Note: I remind you now that the story began in the middle.

*****

Elladan sat on the windowsill, one leg dangling over the edge outside of the room, the other knee drawn up to his chin. Overall this was a quite precarious position, and Elladan liked that. His lips pouted slightly as he pondered the outside world, wondering what it might be like to get to know it--if his father ever allowed such a thing to happen. He counted it as unlikely, and so remained, pondering. Elladan did not think much, for had he his thoughts would have strayed to Elrohir, and he would be sorry. Elladan had every intention of apologizing--much later, when there was no chance he would encounter any one else.

At the sound of his voice Elladan turned and, seeing who had entered, stood from the windowsill and drew himself up to his full height, his eyes nearly level with his father's. "Yes?" asked Elladan, purposely not addressing Elrond directly. This slight did not go unmarked, rather ignored.

"You hit your brother."

"Yes."

This interested Elrond, who had expected a denial. "Why did you do that?"

Elladan shrugged, as though the actions that bogged his conscience were little to him. "I was angry at you, so I wanted to destroy something precious to your heart."

Elrond seethed with anger. "Elladan…" he said in a warning tone.

"Would you rather I had smacked Glorfindel?"

*****

Elrohir cringed at the sound of a door slamming down the corridor. He knew it was Elladan's door, and it was Elrond slamming it. Elrond had been angry, but Elrohir knew well enough that the door slamming would be Elladan's fault. He was always so brazen, mouthing off and staring in defiance. Why he found such actions necessary Elrohir could not fathom. What had he said this time? Whatever it was, it would be Elrohir who carried messages back and forth between them, adding things and keeping them out, until at last they found another unsteady peace. It had been that way for far too long.

"_Peredhil_." At the sound of the soft, lilting voice, Elrohir shot upright. That was his mother, it had to be, no one else in Imladris had such a voice. Curiosity drew the Elfling to the door to listen.

In an exhausted tone, Elrond replied, "Yes, Celebrían?"

"You cannot lose your patience with him."

"Celebrían--"

"No, Elrond. He may be difficult, rude, even offensive, but he is your son. You do not slam doors on your children, Elrond. Why do you think he is the way he is, what do you suppose made him that way?" Celebrían had no fear in speaking this way to her lord, though most would quiver at the thought of chiding the Master of Imladris such. "Go back and apologize to him, but then give him his space. After that you apologize to Elrohir." _To me?_ Elrohir wondered.

"I have done nothing to Elrohir," replied Elrond, puzzled.

"You have. What position is he in now, torn of loyalties between his brother and his father?"

"Elladan assaulted him, Celebrían."

"Love goes deeper, Elrond. Did you not once strike your brother?"

"Nay. He struck me," Elrond admitted this almost against his will. Celebrían said something softly then, and Elrohir could not make out her words. He heard Elrond respond quietly in a changed tone, much calmer and more understanding. Elrohir smiled, for this was truly his _ada_. Yet he was angry, and could not keep that at bay. His anger was towards Elrond, for had he not come between them, Elladan and Elrohir would have been as close as ever they were. 

At first, even as their lives adopted separate paths, the twins remained familiar. As time passed, Elladan seemed to be angrier and angrier, mostly directing his fury at their father. Elrond criticized Elrohir, it was true, but only--Elrohir often reminded himself--to make him a better person. Often on Elrohir's behalf Elladan jumped in, not understanding at all that Elrohir could capably defend himself, only wished not to. Even on the smallest of things, Elladan fought Elrond. Could he not point his anger elsewhere?

Of course he could. His anger he channeled and used in fighting. Elrohir had seen his twin with a sword, and it was truly a sight to behold. Elladan moved with more grace than any other Elf, being practically made of fluid. It was breathtaking. Another way he had used his anger…Elrohir's hand strayed to his jaw, where a bruise was forming. Oh, yes. That had been anger, too.

"Elrohir?"

There was a knock at the door. A surge of anger rose Elrohir and he leapt, fully dressed, beneath the sheets on his bed, facing the wall and hoping he might not get caught out in his lie. Elrond cautiously opened the door and, seeing Elrohir in bed, knew what had happened. He crossed the room and sat beside his son. "I want to apologize to you, Elrohir. You do not have to accept this apology; in fact, you would be more than justified in declining it, but when you are ready, I ask that you hear me out." He had so much he wanted to add; that his behaviour had been inexcusable, that Elladan was wrong and he loved both of them, equally, that he had the best intentions if they were carried out badly. Instead he sat in silence. Then he stroked Elrohir's hair, and said, "You are still angry. That is fine. But know that I love you, Elrohir. Please know that."

Elrohir could feel tears rising in his throat. All this time he had hoped his father would just go away, perhaps yell or be angry or speak empty words, but he had done no such thing. "Go away," Elrohir choked out, unsure of why. His anger had dissipated, and all he was left with was the feeling of a painful rawness inside.

"Elladan said the same," Elrond replied with a nod. "Well, when ever you are ready, Elrohir…" Then he stood and left, hoping he had done right.

Elrohir rose and went to the window. He was just in time to see a figure dash across the open space to the trees. A quiver full of arrows and a bow were slung over this figure's shoulders, and a sword hung around his waist. In the failing light, Elrohir could make out little more. He needed no more to identify the figure. "Elladan…" he said through clenched teeth.

Sometimes Elrohir, too, wished to run out into the woods and hunt, or just run until he no longer could, but he had never actually done so. It had been Elladan who pulled such reckless stunts. With a pang Elrohir realized that he was who he was because of his brother, that his brother had formed him. With one apprehensive glance back into the room, Elrohir put one leg on the windowsill…

*****

TBC


	4. Go Home

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places thereof

Author's note: I'm going on vacation tomorrow, so I won't have computer access for a week. I'll try to post soon when I'm home again.

Pinto: Elladan is…brash, rude, but he is not a faker or a liar. He'll go into detail about himself later on. Looks like my conscience was having a nap. I shall try not to let it do that again.

Falasiel: Elrond's "blindness" is explained a little in this chapter; Elladan's anger will come later, but I promise it will come.

Thanks everyone for reviewing, I love hearing from you!

*****

When Elrohir caught up to his brother, Elladan had gone to the edge of the valley and was gathering wood for a fire. "Where did you mean to go, then?" asked Elrohir, fully expecting his brother to jump in surprise. Elladan did not even flinch, and when he replied it was with a tone of complete nonchalance.

"Somewhere. Anywhere. Maybe I was going to visit Legolas or Grandmother on the other side of the mountains. Maybe I was going to go to Rohan to learn from the horse-lords. Or maybe, maybe I was just going to leave this cursed place and get out on my own, never come back. Never even _look_ back." Elladan did not even stop work as he said this.

Something in Elrohir's chest vibrated painfully at hearing these harsh words. Imladris was home. He had never once questioned that. "You do not mean what you say!" he cried to his brother, his twin, the other part of himself.

"Yes, I do," replied Elladan, now having enough wood and kneeling in a circle of stones. He began to carefully clear away any debris, fallen leaves and such. Elrohir could not say anything, he simply stood, staring open-mouthed at his brother. Elladan finished clearing away the debris and arranged the smaller sticks in a cone formation, with a square-like formation around them. At last he looked up, a stick in either hand. "Go on, boy, get. Turn around and go on back the way you came, back to you _ada_ and _nana_."

"They are your parents too!" Elrohir shot back.

"Yes, but I do not wish to return to their clutches and you do. So go."

"You cannot tell me what to do! You are not the boss of me!" A part of Elrohir hated to fight with his brother, and wished to return home to his warm, safe bed, to make amends with his _ada_ and sleep soundly knowing that his family loved him. But what was family without Elladan? They had been the same cell, the same egg in their mother's womb. Elladan was a part of Elrohir, whether he liked or not, and Elrohir was not leaving until he had some answers. He just did not know his questions yet.

"No, I am not, but I know what you want to do. Go back, Elrohir. I will not think you a quitter."

Elrohir squared his shoulders. Being a quitter had never occurred to him before, and he was proud. "I am not going back until you do, Elladan. You turn back first. Think you are so brave? Turn back first!"

Elladan looked at Elrohir, for the first time really looked at him. Then he rose and slowly and menacingly approached him, staring him straight in the eye. Elrohir felt an uncomfortable scrutiny, but he did not back down. At last Elladan broke out in a smile. "I did not think you had it in you, brother," he said. "Come on, then." And with that Elladan turned.

"What?"

"Are you coming?"

Elrohir paused, then followed after Elladan. After only moments he stopped again, and he said, "Elladan, wait. You--you did not truly mean it? You know we are not allowed."

"Yes, Elrohir, I know what _ada_ says," Elladan replied. He sat on a stone and began to unlace his boots.

"You cannot be serious!" Elrohir exclaimed.

"You do as your lord and master commands, but me? I am my own lord and master," Elladan said. He tied the strings of his boots together and tossed them around his neck, then began to roll up his leggings.

"You are wrong in your head, brother!" Elrohir cried.

"No, brother, that would be you!" replied Elladan, his tone more frightening than Elrohir had ever heard it. The younger twin froze, his heart beating like a drum. "You little kiss-up, you think what he tells you to think and believe what he tells you to believe. You never question him! He loves you for your intelligence, yet you are too stupid to think for yourself. You are blind. You are pathetic. Now do you wish to come with me, or do you wish to remain in Imladris being _ada_'s perfect son?"

Elladan did not wait for an answer, but sat again and began rolling up his leggings. By the time Elrohir had regained the ability to move, Elladan was halfway across the Bruinen. 

*****  


"Glorfindel, am I a bad parent?" asked Elrond of his blond-haired friend.

Glorfindel, who had been going through battle motions with his sword, now paused, laid down his weapon, and set himself beside his friend. "Oh, no. What happened?" asked the warrior.

"Elladan hates me," Elrond replied.

"Elladan has a lot of anger." Glorfindel had been training the elder twin in the use of a blade and hand-to-hand combat for many years, and thus had seen him probably more than the boy's own father. Glorfindel could recite Elladan's strengths and weaknesses in battle, which manoeuvers he had trouble with and which hand he favoured. He could have told you just how hard that boy could push himself and when he would know to give up. But Glorfindel was not Elladan's father, and while he tried to be the best role model he could, there was a place in Elladan's heart that he could not fill. "He needs guidance, Elrond, from someone he loves. He looks to you for it and you turn him away. Now his heart…his heart is hard, Elrond."

"I never knew…"

"You did what you thought was best," Glorfindel replied. "You lost your parents at such a young age, you never had any example of what you should do for your own little ones once they became not-so-little. You did the best you could."

"But that was not enough!" Elrond replied, angry with himself. "What have I done to my son? My firstborn. I love him so much, Glorfindel. Every day when I watched him spar with you I wished it could be me. But you know I surrendered my blade long ago. I did not know what I was doing wrong, and now I cannot undo it."

Glorfindel patted his friend on the shoulder. "Go and have a long talk with him. He will seem angry, but he will listen. He may not forgive you right away, but if you say to him what you just said to me, he will not be angry for very long."

*****

The water was freezing cold and the current frightfully strong. Elrohir was knee-deep in the ford. He could hardly believe it. Here he was, chasing after a person who abhorred him, and for what? Some measly answers to questions he could not even form. Was he insane? Why was he doing this, when he could be safe and warm and asleep at home?

As he cursed his stupidity, Elrohir took another step and shivered. "You should not lift your legs out of the water when you step," commented Elladan, who stood on the opposite bank. He had discovered the hard way that the water was deeper than it looked, and was wringing out his clothes as he spoke. Elrohir, using this knowledge, had tossed his own garments across.

"You said you would not look!" Elrohir said, blushing, to which Elladan chuckled. "Well, you did…" Elrohir was not paying very much attention, too busy being angry with himself and his brother. "Why are you waiting, anyway? You hate me, remember?" Elladan did not reply. Elrohir took yet another step forward, and suddenly the water was deeper than he was tall. He had not been ready for the sheer drop, and fell into the river. Elrohir tried to strong, and so he gave in.

*****

To be continued


	5. Nothing You Cannot Fix

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places thereof  
  
*****  
  
"Elrohir!" Elladan had not the time to think before he acted, but ran to the river and dived, splashing into the deepest string of the river. He wasted no time but straightened his body and swam with the current, moving faster than the current, or any debris it might carry--or any Elves caught in the flow.  
  
The cold of the water against his skin cooled Elladan's temper, his anger ebbed, and all he could think of was Elrohir. If he failed to help his brother, did not reach him in time, Elladan might. . .he might lose something. . .an important part of him. His other half, his better half, would leave for Mandos' Halls, and it would be entirely his fault.  
  
Not only the fault nagged at Elladan. Sometimes he mistreated his family, he knew that. In his anger at his father he hurt his mother and his brother, yet they had not left him, never abandoned him. Now, because of his brashness and complete lack of self-control, he would take from his mother her one good son, the boy she looked upon with pride. Elrohir would be gone, and Celebrían's heart would break.  
  
Elladan would not let that happen.  
  
Adrenaline spurred him on as he ran out of air, and nevertheless remained below the surface, pounding through the water for all he was worth. Ahead he could see the slowly sinking body of his twin, and that too served to spur him forward, until at last Elladan had descended to a point at which he was even with his brother, then he was holding his twin, dragging him up to the surface, back to the air. . .  
  
Elladan's lungs were burning as he gulped in air, trying to keep Elrohir's head above the water. The younger boy had swallowed water and been with out air long enough to pass out, which Elladan counted as luck: if Elrohir had been struggling, fighting the current would be more difficult. Holding Elrohir in the style best known as "the buddy tug" or "deadman's float," Elladan swam in a diagonal, with the current and to the shore.  
  
With effort Elladan dragged both halves of his sopping self onto the stone ground. He collapsed for a moment against the rock floor, his chest heaving to take in air, hardly able to believe he was alive, hardly able to believe what had just happened. Then it hit him: "Elrohir!"  
  
Leaning over his twin, Elladan held his fingers below Elrohir's nose and began to panic: Elrohir was no breathing. "What do I do?" Elladan asked aloud. "What do I do?" He felt Elrohir's chest, then pounded him where his heart ought to beat, hoping this was the right thing.  
  
Elrohir coughed. Elladan watched him, mouth open, staring intently. "Go on, do it again," he whispered. Elrohir cough, and kept cough, water spilling from his mouth. He leaned onto his side and a waterfall spilt forth. Elladan screamed with joy. "Elrohir, you are all right! Elrohir, you're alive!"  
  
Elrohir gave his brother a withering look. "What else would I be?" They both laughed at this.  
  
"Come on," Elladan said, standing. Elrohir tried to stand, but fell; his brother caught him. "All right. . .then we will just start a fire here. Tomorrow, when the sun is out, we will make our way home." Already the moon was rising.  
  
Together the twins limped away, until they came across a space big enough to constitute a small clearing, a place where they could start a fire to keep away the dark and the cold--both boys were wet and neither had a tunic. Elladan rested Elrohir against a tree and set about clearing a space for their fire. "How will we start a fire?" Elrohir asked weakly.  
  
"Flint, I found it lying on the ground," Elladan answered, arranging sticks to burn. He found one large branch, three feet or so, but not enough for a large fire. "My dagger is steel. Hm. If I had any oil, this might make a decent torch." Drawing his dagger, luckily now dry, Elladan struck a spark upon the wood, teased it with leaves, and at last had a small blaze going.  
  
"Lucky you did not lose the knife," Elrohir commented.  
  
"Not luck, Brother," Elladan replied. "Look. I loop this bit of leather around the hilt here, this bit here, and the dagger is stuck."  
  
Elrohir smiled. "Lucky my brother is so clever."  
  
"Now do not start with that, Elrohir! I never was the clever one, that was you, and rightly: you are clever enough for the both of us. I can work to understand but I'm not smart like you. I am strong, and swords come naturally to me. I am a warrior, but anyone can be a warrior. You, Elrohir, you are truly special. You have a mind! Father loves you for it and well he should. If I was our father, I would love you the more for your mind."  
  
Elrohir shook his head. "You are so wrong on so many counts: how may I address them all?"  
  
"You may address them slowly and I shall wait," Elladan replied.  
  
"All right. To begin with, I am no natural mind. I struggle to meet Father's expectations because I feel I must prove myself again and again to him. He loves us both, Elladan. He loves us both but he knows my flaws and cannot see yours! You think it is easy to study with your father, to have him know every mistake you make? I want to be perfect for him. I want to be perfect so that he will love me half as much as he loves you. Do you know how this feels? Can you conceive of how it feels to work to fit into the profile set for you, because that's the only way to be loved, and to fall short again and again? Do you know how it feels when everyone thinks you are smart, and inside you are actually really, really stupid? Do you know what it's like to have been pretending so hard and for so long, you forget who you really are? No, you don't know, because you don't care! You don't care what anyone thinks of you, and you're free, and I would give everything I have to be you right now!"  
  
"I--"  
  
"I was not yet finished."  
  
Elladan was completely taken aback by this. Did Elrohir truly feel this way, did he know that Elladan felt the same? "I apologize. Go ahead."  
  
Elrohir took a deep breath. "Every day I try to look out for you. I put aside my anger and frustration to look after you. Why are you never the big brother? Why do you never care about someone else? Do you know how much I love you, how much our parents love you? Why do you hurt us all so much? Why are you never happy? Can you not see that you have everything?"  
  
After that neither of them spoke for a while, but they sat watching the fire crackle and snap. At last Elladan leaned his head against his brother's shoulder and said, "I always thought you had everything." Elrohir said nothing. "I love you, Elrohir."  
  
Elrohir had fallen asleep. Elladan hoped he knew.  
  
*****  
  
"Elladan?" Elrond stood outside of his son's door, not willing to enter the room uninvited. "Elladan, you. . .I know you are angry right now, I respect that, but we need to talk. We never talk anymore, Elladan. . .but the love is there. Elladan. . .will you let me be your father again?" There was no response.  
  
Elrond nodded sadly. "I thought you might say that," he muttered, and walked away. Cursing himself, he realized how terribly ruined his relationship with his sons was. Reflection forced itself upon him, and when he fell beside his wife in bed he spoke no word, but she knew. She always knew. "Oh, Cel, what have I done?" Elrond whispered to the darkness.  
  
Celebrían put her arms around her husband and held him, then whispered, "Nothing. You have done nothing you can not fix."  
  
*****  
  
To be continued 


End file.
